The trial had turned into both a farce and a blood-soaked denunciation, making Clyde Shelton's case a nationwide sensation in the USA. Even William, who had intended to meet Clyde again, hesitated.
If the media caught wind of William visiting Clyde now, the ensuing spectacle would be unbearable.
Lying in his home in New York's Upper East Side, William watched Clyde's smug expression through his virtual display system and sighed. "That damn bastard is clever," he thought. By escalating the situation and drawing media attention, Clyde had created an environment where William—an internationally known figure—couldn't risk being associated with him, much less interfere in his revenge. Any trace of involvement would lead to endless media harassment.
Moreover, Clyde's public confession to two murders, complete with gruesome details, had secured a charge of first-degree murder. In New York, where the death penalty was technically an option, albeit rarely used, Clyde had further complicated his enemies' plans.
With the possibility of a death sentence looming over Clyde, those who wanted him dead were likely to hold off on their attempts. Why risk action when the state itself might do the job?
In one court outburst, Clyde had humiliated his enemies—the judge, the prosecutors, and William—and bought himself temporary safety under increased prison guard surveillance.
William rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Was there footage from the trial?" he asked Sunday.
"Yes, sir. Internal recordings exist, but they're not intended for public release."
"Well then," William murmured with a sly grin, "if Clyde wants to use the media's influence, let's help him out. If he wants fame, we'll make sure the whole world knows his name."
"Understood, sir."
Thanks to Sunday, the trial footage and audio were anonymously leaked to major television networks. By noon, American media outlets, true to form, had broadcast the courtroom drama in full.
By the afternoon, Clyde Shelton and everyone he had targeted during the trial had become household names. Public opinion split into two camps: one demanding severe punishment for Clyde, and another calling for a thorough investigation of the decade-old case involving his wife and daughter's murders.
The New York justice system found itself under immense public pressure. By evening, the city's mayor had summoned all relevant officials for an emergency meeting.
Reports emerged that those leaving the meeting looked utterly defeated. Back at their offices, they called in every available employee, even recalling staff from leave. They had just three days to reexamine the decade-old case—or resign.
The following morning, at 9 a.m., Nick Reese, already summoned for questioning by internal investigators, received another urgent call to head to El Bilton Prison. Clyde Shelton had informed the warden that he held the missing defense attorney Bill Reno and wanted to negotiate with Nick.
Upon entering the steel-barred interrogation room, Nick reached for the monitor controls to turn off surveillance, only to be stopped by the internal investigators who had accompanied him.
"What's this?" Clyde asked, surprised, clearly unaware that his courtroom antics had been broadcast nationwide.
Nick glared at him. "Don't play dumb. Thanks to you and the media, I'm now a national celebrity. Last night, for the first time in her life, my ten-year-old daughter asked me why I didn't keep the people who killed your wife and daughter locked away forever."
"Thank her for me," Clyde said, his tone sharp yet sincere. "I didn't expect a ten-year-old to understand justice and humanity better than you." Pausing for a moment, he added, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have sent that video to Denise."
"How do you know my daughter's name?" Nick roared, standing up and grabbing Clyde by the collar. "How the hell do you know my daughter's name?"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Clyde remained calm as guards quickly stepped in to separate them.
"Relax, Nick," Clyde said with a chilling smile. "If I wanted to harm your family, I've had plenty of time and opportunity over the past decade.
"I know your daughter's name is Denise, your wife's name is Kate, and since Denise was three, I've watched her being dropped off at school by her mother. I've followed her life, Nick. While I've never approached her, I know everything about her."
"Damn you!" Nick's face went pale as a cold sweat ran down his back. The realization that Clyde had been surveilling his family for seven years without his knowledge made his blood run cold.
If Clyde had been more ruthless, Nick's fate could have mirrored Clyde's own tragic past. Unable to control his fury, Nick lashed out with a kick, only to be restrained by two burly guards.
After a long struggle and reassurances from his colleagues, Nick finally calmed down. Pulling free from the guards, he looked at Clyde with gritted teeth and spat, "Am I supposed to thank you for sparing my family?"
"You're welcome," Clyde replied with a smug grin. "You should thank God for giving you an angel. Denise reminds me of my daughter."
Nick wasn't buying Clyde's sentimentality. "Enough with your crap. Tell me—what do you want?"
"At 1 p.m., I want a 20-ounce filet mignon from Field's Steakhouse, served with fries, creamy pumpkin soup, pasta, and asparagus."
"Go to hell with your fries," Nick said, storming out of the room.
In the prison's administrative area, Nick ran into his visibly exhausted boss, Bruce Mack. "How are you holding up?" Nick asked.
"Don't worry about me," Bruce said with a weary smile. "I'm 61, Nick. I've been in this job for 41 years. I've seen worse."
"And yet here we are," Nick replied, shaking his head. "Has it been confirmed that Bill Reno is missing?"
"Yes," Bruce said. "We contacted his wife. She confirmed he's been missing for three days."
Bruce patted Nick on the shoulder. "Decisions aren't the hard part, Nick. Living with the consequences is. That's why I don't think we were wrong ten years ago.
"If we hadn't struck a deal with Clarence Darby, both he and Rupert Meeks would have walked free. Back then, we did the best we could with the system we had. If Clyde Shelton wants to blame someone, he should blame the laws of the time."
"The laws?" Nick murmured, a vague suspicion forming in his mind. Could Clyde's entire plan—his confession, his courtroom theatrics, and his incarceration—be aimed at the justice system itself?
The thought sent a shiver down Nick's spine. Even he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.
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Fairy Tail: Igneel's Eldest Son (Chapter 256)
I Am Thalos, Odin's Older Brother (Chapter 336)
Reborn in America's Anti-Terror Unit (Chapter 542)
Solomon in Marvel (Chapter 924)
Becoming the Wealthiest Tycoon on the Planet (Chapter 1284)
Surgical Fruit in the American Comics Universe (Chapter 1289)
American Detective: From TV Rookie to Seasoned Cop (Chapter 1316)
American TV Writer (Chapter 1402)
I Am Hades, The Supreme GOD of the Underworld! (Chapter 570)
Reborn as Humanity's Emperor Across the Multiverse (Chapter 660)
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